Botanical Photography by Emma Mitchell

There is a radio show here in Toronto, where the infamous Kim Mitchell (well infamous here in Canada…everybody knows “Patio Lanterns”….) has a spot that he dubs “Damn I wish I wrote that” where he highlights various famous songs that he wishes he wrote. He plays a little diddle on his guitar, fumbles a few notes trying to play some extremely tricky Zeppelin riff, and natters on about how amazing the song is and how he wishes he wrote it. I always chuckle to myself as I know he wishes he was a better musician, and that he could come up with something better than “Go for a Soda”, but I love that he can put all his admiration on the line, and be humbled by it.

Every time I highlight one of these artists on Photosynthesis, I feel like Kim Mitchell. Because I wish I wrote that.

Emma Mitchell is one of those artists. To do something as simple and beautiful as her Botanical Photography, it immediately turns into an art form. She has found the beauty in each individual stem or leaflet that she discovers, and groups them together in a neat little row, and labels them for all of the other plant nerds out there to admire.

She lives in a little village somewhere across the pond, and highlights her creativeness on her blog silverpebble. Every post is a fascinating read, and I am in the process of picking all the chicken off the bone and devouring her posts one at a time. I have just signed up for her handwritten letter exchange, which some 700 people have signed up to exchange creative handwritten letters to random pen pals all over the world. I am in love.

Flowers by Claus Dalby

I stumbled upon Claus Dalby on Instagram a few months back, and he is absolutely one of my favourite people that I follow. A man of a few different hats, he is a plantsman, publisher, author, broadcaster and photographer. If you want to get all squirmy and antsy for spring, then jump on board and follow Claus. His photos are s-t-u-n-n-i-n-g. I love to play in the garden as much as the next, but when I look at his photos, and peruse his blog, he makes me want to grow these fascinating specimens myself, as he does. There is truly a science behind the growth of a plant; watching these beauties take shape, and admiring the vibrance of colour from one to the next. When I look through his blog, and absorb every bit of information he puts forth, he reminds me more and more of a male Martha Stewart. Their beautiful estates are similar, their disposition, their love for the plant, and their plethora of knowledge that I will never tire of. I dream, one day, to be as fortunate as both of them, to be able to grow and enjoy ALL of these beauties throughout the year.

Woodcuts

Cedar Burl

Honey Locust

Compression Wood, Red Oak

Red Maple

While shopping in one of my favourite local digs, Centro Garden, I was able to snag the last copy of Woodcut by Brian Nash Gill. A small, beautifully captured collection of various species of trees. “You look across all of the tree’s living years, exposed at once. And yet, as you move from the center of the periphery – to the final present of that individual tree – you’re also looking along time, along the succession of growth cycles that end in what is, after all, the death mask of a plant, the sustained rigour mortis of maple, ash, spruce, locust, and other species.” (p.13 – Verlyn Klinkenborg). These photos look like a bleed, an cell that evolved and bled into the space it needed to survive. I am always fascinated by trees that grow and morph around objects like fences and sidewalks, and nothing will stand in its way. It will adapt and spillover, and survive. A tree’s protection system is incredible. It is as incredible as the healing system of the human body. A small wound, and the tree will fold over and protect its vulnerability to survive. A sun-thriving tree placed in the shade will literally bend over backwards to find the light and get out of the darkness.